the rise and fall of the demonic kingdom
by runetipped pen
Summary: the odd duo of a swordman and a marksmen are joined together by the need for survival are chased off from there home land falador. the demonic presence in there city soon becomes more then the fall of falador. plz, rr


As the sun slowly rose aloft, so did the many citizens of Falador of the world of Runescape. I come to tell a story, one that you will not find in your so called books of history, but rather in the wound of the foe, the death of the innocent, and the swords of the brave. This is the story of the battle of Falador.

It was a lazy day in Falador. The type of days where you were just too darn lazy to even raise a glass of algid water to your lips. Still, the many children of Falador assembled in the halls of the white knights castle. All were desperately trying to keep awake, fighting the sluggishness that had overcome them, the heat slowly entering their bodies, giving a lulling effect. All were warring their own battle with this sleepiness, except for one, exceptionally attentive boy. He stared in awe as the knight's sword swiftly cut through the air, as the teacher described the clean motions of the sword. Even though he admired close combat greatly, his skills were found in archery. They were stationed at the 4th floor, in which one could easily overlook the exterior walls surrounding the city. The young boy viewed the field, the expanse a paradise and hell. One day he hoped to stand side by side with the white knights, and purge the world of all evil. He looked happily at the flock of red birds slowly migrating back to Falador, mounted on dragon like animals. Wait a second, thought the boy, how the hell do birds ride a flying reptiles. On closer inspection the boy came to realize the truth. He abruptly stood up, cutting off the teacher, just as he was telling the history of Sir Gregory Nooblet. Then the boy spread the message. "Demons are coming!" Then, the small classroom of such sluggishness, heat, humidity, that you could smell the water evaporating from their brows, had a change in atmosphere. The demons may not have come yet, but panic was already there.

Outside of the castle, where the anarchy had not struck yet, there stood a young boy. His long wavy brown hairs hung slightly bellow his brow. His thin yet strong figure gave you the feeling in which you quickly correct your posture to a more upright position. He, was what you could say, handsome, except for two features of his. Firstly was his vast amount of excess water dripping from his brow. The other was a more harsh yet less noticeable. His icy blue eye would watch carefully as he wilted the wooden sword, crudely crafted from an oak log he stole. This in his mind, would be the log that would strike the black knight who kill his father, a noble white knight, sir Vynn the first. That was the same knight that had ricocheted his family into poverty. Every time someone said the words "black knight" he would inch closer to see which side the person took. If he was a supporter of the black knights, when the person turned around, he would usually find a ghastly portion of his pants, usually in the back, missing.

The boy leaned lazily against the wall, the heat overpowering his as well. He smiled as he sleepily carved a figurine of a white knight. Or at least, as close of a smile as he could. Just as the black knight had taken his fathers life, he also took his happiness.

And just two meters away, that's where the first attack happened. A great burst of fire held together by the sins of mankind, was suddenly hurled at him. Even after the fire hit ground, it did not die, for the sins of men were abundant. It licked at him, riving at him, his sweaty feature suddenly became one of a more charred one. He then looked up to see the most horrendous sight ever. A large demon, with leviathan like wings, swooped down, and plucked a white knight from the wall, and perched there, almost happily and stabbed its sword like claws into the left section of the man's chest. A cry of agony and sickening ripping sound was all that Vynn sensed as the demon feasted on the man.

Suddenly the city alarm went off. A loud blaring horn signaled that. And this was the beginning of a war that would decide the fate of man. It would decide the fate of good.

sry bout the gore. Hope u liked it. Review review review! Oh and if u got any big words to add to my vocabulary, that would be positively transfattily scumtion. Mmmmmmm…….. meat pie.

Long lives Santa

Runetipped pen


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